Anne was now an ordinary, sixty year old woman living in the ordinary town of Bakersville. She watched each and every person of town go through the same cycle and patterns of living in Bakersville ever since she was a little girl. Her parents were loving and happily married for fifty-seven years. They had died ten years earlier; both from heart attacks, both a week apart from each other. Neither could live without the other. Anne saw their love and deaths as special. They couldn’t be apart; they were soul mates for life. The other citizens of the town just thought they were old. They saw their deaths as ordinary. Anne’s older sister, Sara, was 5 years older then her. Despite the age gap, both sisters were extraordinarily close ever since they were little girls. Sara would closely watch and protect her baby sister as they explored the surrounding forest on a daily basis and she could always count on Anne to listen to her as she talked about boys and her desire to explore the world outside of Bakersville. Anne always promised to keep Sara’s secrets sacred, and Sara promised the same back. When Anne was fifteen she watched Sara marry David Williams on a beautiful June day in the middle of the large town park. Anne had been the maid of honor and like her mother, had to reapply her make-up four times after being unable to control her tears of happiness. Anne watched on with her family and half of the town as Sara and David beamed large, never-ending smiles at each other as they danced together at their reception and left on their honeymoon; an exstensive trip through Europe. Anne was the first person Sara told about David to when Sara and him were fifteen and started dating. Anne always knew they’d get married. She was envious of their affection and the way they showered each other with love and praise. Anne adored David. The oldest of three children, with two younger sisters, David was the son of the town baker and a nurse that worked with Anne and Sara’s mother. He was one of the kindest people Anne had ever met as well as a talented writer who dreamed of being published someday. Him and Sara were meant to be together. They became engaged right after they graduated high school and attended the same college that was located in a neighboring city, just a few hours away. Two years later they returned to Bakersville to get married, surrounded by their family and friends, and to enjoy their honeymoon before the end of summer when they would return to school. David was majoring in creative writing, while Sara was on her way to becoming a professional photographer. Three years after that, Sara and David had their first daughter; Anne’s god-daughter Megan. They had two more daughters after that; Lucy and Melody. Anne kept in regular contact with all the girls. Megan was pregnant with her third child, Lucy was a newlywed, and Melody had just graduated from a top-notch arts school in New York City. Sara and David never returned to Bakersville to settle down and raise their family. This idea never pleased either one of their parents, and it puzzled the rest of the town; it was out of the ordinary. Anne understood though, and she was envious. She knew of their plans all along as they would walk with her through the woods and tell her of their plans to explore the world and live in big, exciting cities. Sara and David were tired of ordinary. They were Anne’s heroes. She planned to do everything they set out to do. She wanted to live just like they did. Despite the fact that the town found their desire to leave peculiar, they soon dismissed it. The town, as usual, saw their romance as beautiful, yet ordinary. Anne saw them as the epitome of love though. They represented everything she wanted to find in a man someday; true love. She looked on at her happy sister during her wedding reception before she realized that Mitchel Carlisle was smiling at her from across the park. She smiled as she ducked her head and blushed. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he quickly looked away and did the same.

Today was an unusually cool and breezy September morning as Anne stepped out on her freshly painted front porch. She took in a deep breath and smiled softly as she smelled the fragrant honeysuckle bushes she had planted around her home and felt the cool breeze sweep across her wrinkled skin. Anne stepped off the porch with her large satchel and began the short, fifteen-minute walk into the town to the local super-market. Anne’s home was the most secluded building from the rest of the town, as it was nestled right on the edge of the surrounding woods and open to the wildlife. This was the way Anne preferred it. It also gave Anne the perfect excuse to get out more and take nice walks into town. The town marveled at the extremely physically fit sixty year old. Anne owned an old, beat up Ford that once belonged to her father but she barely ever drove it and kept it locked in an old shed. Even during the winter, she preferred to walk. As usual, Anne smiled and waved at the other towns people as she walked by and they did the same. It was a very nice place to live. Most people were kind with very little crimes or disturbances ever occurring. Most people recognized Anne, just as she recognized each of them. Being as gentle and kind as she was, many people often stopped her to have a small chat and ask how she was. Anne would smile and reply and ask them the same. The town liked Anne. She was kind, stayed involved with the town, and had lived there her whole life. To them, Anne was perfectly ordinary. Anne loved Bakersville. She loved the people who lived there, but even the people Anne considered her closest friends did not know her all that well. Anne hated the word ordinary.

Vincent “Vince” McPherson refused to exit the run down, station wagon parked outside of his new home on Cherry Street in Bakersville. His mother begged him to come out and help her carry the card-board boxes that had just been hauled off the moving truck. He only turned his music up louder as he slumped further into the musty old cushions. His mother, Becca Robinson, she was dropping her ex-husbands name, sighed as she carried the first box inside and began the time consuming task herself. Vince looked out the car window through his long, jet-black bangs that matched the rest of his long, spiky hair. He noticed each perfectly uniformed home, one right after the other, going down every perfectly kept street. He saw that each lawn and garden was kept perfectly manicured. Vince turned around to look at his new home and noticed it looked exactly like every other house in the small town. Not one person passing by the home had noticed him yet, but he noticed them. To Vince they all looked too eerily similar; like drones he had read about in one of his horror stories. He noted that there was surprisingly quite a bit of diversity with each persons look and ethnicities, but they were still too similar. Each person had nice, neat clothes. Every kid had on what his mother called “normal clothes.” Vince looked down at his own choice of wardrobe today. He had his favorite black hoodie on over a t-shirt of one of his favorite rock bands. He also had on his favorite pair of dark-wash skinny jeans and his oldest pair of black, converse sneakers. Despite the summer heat, these were the kind of things Vince usually wore. His mother desperately tried to get him to change and dress like an ordinary seventeen year old. Each time she took him shopping, Vince would listen to her go on and on for hours about buying clothes that weren’t black, taking the black dye out of his hair, and giving up the black nail polish for good. Vince could usually last a good ten minutes before putting on his headphones and cranking up the kind of rock music his mother often complained gave her a headache. She had briefly given up her mission, that was until she decided to move them to Bakersville. His mother thought he might have a better chance of making new friends quicker if he started dressing what she called “differently then you do now.” Vince’s blood boiled as he thought about the whole situation once more. His scrawny frame climbed out of the car that was now uncomfortably hot inside and shouldered his back pack as he slammed the rusty car door. He stomped inside and passed his mother without saying a word. When he finally found the room where all the boxes containing his personal items were stacked, he slammed the door and flung himself onto the twin bed face first. He could hear his mother inaudibly shout something at him, but he ignored her as he ripped open every box until he found his stereo system. After he set up his stereo on the already existing dresser and put in a CD, he lied back down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He wanted to go back to Chicago. He wanted to be back in a big city that everyone had heard of before and where the people were different. Sure, he had his fair share of bullying and trouble in school, but he still had friends that understood him, that were like him. Vince couldn’t look at his mother when she told him they were moving to Bakersville. He hated her. He desperately wished he was eighteen and could make decisions of his own. Vince knew him and his mother still needed each other though. He probably wouldn’t have left her if he had had the chance. Vince was surely going to stick out like a sore thumb here though. His mother said they could now live a peaceful, ordinary life in a small town and a close community. Vince didn’t understand his mother’s and the whole town of Bakersville’s obsession with the word ordinary. He remembered visiting here with his mother years ago when he was seven to visit his mother’s cousins and their families who lived here. Even back then, Vince wasn’t like other kids and he remembered seeing every other kid in the town like mindless zombies that didn’t understand what the word “individuality” meant. On the car ride down Vince listened to his mother go on and on about she had always loved visiting her extended family that lived in Bakersville. She always wished her family lived there too, but her parents were too preoccupied with their big, important jobs in the big city. His mother had planned on moving to Bakersville after high school, but she met Vince’s dad and he had said it was completely out of the question after they got married. That was his mom’s other favorite topic as they drove to their new home. She talked about finally being rid of his father and how he would never stumble into their lives at the worst possible times ever again. She said nasty things about his dad all the way there, but Vince didn’t mind. Robert McPherson was a nasty man. Vince never wanted to see him again. That was the only plus he could find about moving. Vince may be currently angry at his mother, but he loved her more then anything. If Robert ever put his hands on his mother again like he did when he was thirteen, he doesn’t know if he’d be able to control himself. All of the times his father would desert them for weeks to months, to even years ever since Vince was three, taught Vince and his mother how to take care of themselves. Still, every time he came back they would take him in and believe his lies just so they could try and have a normal, happy family. After Robert struck Vince’s mother the night of Vince’s thirteenth birthday, Vince had finally had enough. He made his mother swear to never let him back in their home and lives. He stopped referring to Robert as his father. To Vince he had no father. They never pressed charges, but they hadn’t seen him since that night. Robert was constantly in some sort of trouble and found himself in and out of jail for years. He was about to get out of jail after two and half years for robbing a gas station when Becca decided it was the perfect time to leave before he came back into their lives, begging for money and saying he was a changed man. Now, looking around his new room in this new town, Vince became angry at Robert once more for being one of the reasons Vince had to leave his home in Chicago and feel utterly alone in the tiny town of Bakersville. Vince buried his head in his pillow and wondered why his parents couldn’t have been an ordinary, happy couple.

Vince eventually became bored and decided to finally unpack all of his boxes, seeing as he didn’t have anything better to do. He sloppily stuffed the already existing dressers with his clothes and haphazardly threw the rest in his spacious closet. His shoes and belts went next. He threw his black sheets and comforter on his bed without making the effort to straighten them neatly. The only thing he took care of in organizing was his massive CD collection, each rack neatly stacked and alphabetized, sitting right beside his large stereo system. He proceeded to cover the sickly, blue walls with countless posters of his favorite heavy metal bands as well as autographed pictures he got from the endless festivals he attended. He even had pictures of his self with his friends that he would always attended these concerts with, and just hang out with on a normal basis. He had been texting them since he left town, but it wasn’t the same. Those were his best-friends, they were like him. They understood him better then his mother. He debated whether or not to hang up any of the pictures he had of Tabitha. To Vince McPherson, Tabitha Schroeder was the perfect girl. He sat on the edge of his bed and starred at the pictures of the two of them from the past two years. He thought about that night when they were both fifteen, hanging out at a party after a concert, and he leaned over and kissed her for the first time. He thought about how they had been friends since they were thirteen and finally gathered enough courage to act on his two year long crush. He softly chuckled when he thought about how she had playfully punched him in the ribs, asking why it took him so long. He now held a small, shoe box of pictures depicting them and their two year long relationship. He then wanted to throw the whole box out the window when he remembered her face the day he told her he was moving hours away to some small town no one knew about. He couldn’t shake the memory of her beautiful, blue eyes suddenly filling with tears as she became extremely emotional and screaming at him uncontrollably. She accused him of deserting her. He remembered her accusatory tone as she yelled at him for not fighting for her, fighting his mother to stay. He told her time and time again how he tried his hardest to stay and repeated time and time again how much he loved her as his own tears took over. He would try to hold her in his arms as they sobbed together. She would give in for a second, and then she would try to rip herself from his grasp. She finally ran out of the room sobbing and ignored Vince as he desperately called after her. He thought about how she came to see him his last day in town and told him she wasn’t ready to start a long distance relationship. He silently cried as he watched his Tabi walk away. She was one of the prettiest girls in school. With long blonde hair and a petite figure, normal people said she could be a regular knock-out if it wasn’t for her love of black and punk-rock music. Vince thought about how he always jokingly called her his “punk-rock Barbie.” He thought about how Tabitha was no longer his. He had lost the one thing he had seen as ordinary in his life; his perfect relationship.
He angrily threw the box in the back of his closet; he wasn’t ready to throw the pictures away. He was finally tired of sulking in his bedroom. He needed to get out of the house.

Vince tried to walk in the shadows of the buildings in the center of town as he tried to make his way to the middle, virtually unseen. He knew he had said he had wanted to get out of the house, but he wasn’t ready for his mother to ask him to walk straight through the heart of town to buy groceries at the only grocery store in town, located right in the middle of Bakersville. She told him it would be good for him; that he should talk to the towns people and find kids his age. As hard as he tried to remain unnoticed with his hood pulled tightly over his head, he still couldn’t ignore the many stares he received. He could tell what each person was thinking as he passed by; “Who’s that?” “Why is he wearing all black?” “He’s not ordinary.” He watched a group of teen girls quickly try to get out of his way and avoid his gaze. None of them reminded him of Tabi. Vince was ready to die. Later he would swear to his mother that he was never going to leave the house ever again. He entered the nearly empty grocery store and avoided the condescending gaze of the store manager and the only cashier working at the time. He rolled his eyes as he made his way to the back of the store to buy refrigerated goods. As he made his way to the last aisle, he heard a female voice singing some strange little song. Vince stopped right before entering the aisle, suddenly intrigued. He peaked his head around the corner and saw an elderly woman, somewhere in her sixties he guessed, peering into the coolers with no one else in sight down the entire aisle. Vince realized that the old woman was actually talking to the food in high-pitched singing voice. She would pick up a container of yogurt or package of cheese and ask it if it had expired yet. Vince was ready to write her off as a senile old woman loosing her marbles, but she looked pretty healthy. She stood up straight and had svelte figure. Vince was intrigued by this strange woman. He didn’t think the people of Bakersville would find this as “ordinary” behavior. The old woman suddenly turned her head and noticed Vince immediately. Vince tried to duck back, out of her view, but he was stunned stiff. She smiled at him and immediately began to make her way over to him. Vince tried to turn and run from her, but before he could move, she was standing right in front of him. She extended her hand with a warm smile and introduced her self as Anne Baker. Vince hesitantly took her hand and told her his name. She had a firm shake. Vince was a mixture of confused and nervous as Anne looked him over with a wide smile and bright eyes. Vince couldn’t understand why this old woman wasn’t scared of him or put off by his unusual style. After what seemed like endless minutes of silence, Anne finally spoke, “Your not very ordinary are you.” Vince was once again stunned silent. He just stared at her. He couldn’t decide what was stranger; the way she worded her question, or the way she almost seemed happy to find someone as unusual as him now living in Bakersville. Before he could say anything, Anne insisted that he followed her back to her home. Without a word and his mouth slightly agape, he followed her to the front of the store as she proceeded to check out her items and Vince forgot everything he needed to fetch for his mother. The cashier gave Anne a questioning look but she dismissed it and instead introduced Vince to the young female cashier. The two just stared at each other. It was hard for Vince to ignore her dark brown eyes that matched her long, chocolate brown hair. She also had flawless, tan skin. Vince was momentarily speechless. He was once again stunned when she broke into a sweet smile and greeted him warmly. He smiled back at her as he read her name tag; Zoe. Vince looked back at her once more as she promised to see him around and he followed Anne out of the store, holding her grocery bags. Vince listened to Anne tell her life story and how she had lived in Bakersville her entire life. He answered all of her questions about where he was from and his family. He was surprisingly candid about his father and she listened intently and thoughtfully to everything he said. Vince still couldn’t figure this woman out. He had now known her a total of twenty minutes and they were talking like old friends or as if she was his actual grandmother. Vince still couldn’t figure out why this one old woman of the perfectly normal town of Bakersville, was so interested about and kind to to him, Vince McPherson. Far from ordinary by Bakersville standards. They finally reached her home on the outskirts of town. Besides being surrounded by dense forest, the home looked like every other house in Bakersville. Just as Anne was about to open her front door, she turned her head a gave Vince a small, coy smile. Vince looked at her in confusion before he stepped into the home and nearly dropped the groceries all over the hot pink carpet. His jaw nearly hit the floor. Maybe Anne Baker wasn’t an ordinary old woman after all.

Vince stood in the middle of the large for-ye, stock still and speechless. Anne gathered the groceries and nonchalantly went about her way to take them to the kitchen. All Vince could come up with to describe the house was a child’s toy factory slash candy store paradise. He could not see one wall throughout the entire house that had the same paint color as another. There were at least five different carpet colors running throughout the entire house, each being more unconventional then the next. In one room off to the side, Vince could see floor-to-ceiling chalk boards. Half of the room looked like someone had already been doodling there that day. None of the furniture in any of the rooms matched each other or made any sense. To the right, in what he guessed was the living-room, there was a couch and arm chair in bright neon colors as well as a large, egg shaped chair that looked like they had all come straight from the 70s. In the dining room to the left, was a large dinner table made completely of stained glass. He had never seen anything like it. None of the six chairs that lined the table looked alike at all. Each differed in size, style, and color. The very opening of the house had a very tall ceiling and a large staircase straight ahead. As Vince looked up, he noticed for the first time, a magnificent blown glass chandelier with a rainbow of colors running throughout it. Looking up, Vince also noticed a long, toy train track running along the walls throughout the first story. He marveled as a mint-condition toy-train went chugging by while blowing bubbles from the engine’s stack. Vince thought of all the stories his mother and teachers would read to him that would contain marvelous worlds and alternate universes. He felt like he was suddenly in one of those stories. He thought there was no way other houses in Bakersville looked like this one in any shape or form. Vince realized he had been standing in the same place for some time when he heard Anne call to him from the kitchen. As he made his way to the kitchen, he noticed many, multi-colored picture frames hanging on the brightly colored walls. He saw pictures of who he guessed was Anne as a young girl as well her at her current old age. He noted that many pictures contained the same man, from young to old, right beside Anne. Vince was stunned once more as he made his way through the swinging kitchen door. He noted that nothing in the kitchen was color coordinated. He knew his mother would have had a heart attack. The walls were covered with multi-colored tiles and surrounded by appliances that ranged from stainless steel, to a bright red coffee maker, and even a pink waffle iron. Vince also noted that on the counters there was a cotton candy machine, slushie maker, and an old fashioned popcorn cart on the floor, off to the side. Turning his head once more he saw a large pantry that looked at least seven feet tall. Inside he counted ten selves holding at least sixty glass jars, containing a vast assortment of sweet, sour, and chocolate candies. Vince felt like a five year old at a carnival once again or like Charlie when he was inside of Willy Wonka’s candy factory. “So what do you think Vince?” Anne asked as she suddenly came up beside him with a bright smile and twinkle in her eye. All he could do was stare at her in amazement, his mouth agape, as he stuttered while trying to reply. He finally managed to gather his thoughts and nearly whispered, “It’s amazing.” He was almost afraid that if he spoke too loud, he would wake up from this dream. She smiled once more as she lead him out of the kitchen to the large staircase. Anne wordlessly lead him up the stars, where more family pictures were hung, and down a long hallway containing about five rooms. He noted how strange each one was; an art studio set up in one, a small green house in another, and Anne’s bedroom that looked like a like a replica of Wonderland. Even the bathroom was a strange replica of a tropical paradise, luxury resort. They finally reached the last room on the left side of the hallway. As she opened the door Vince was sure he had enough surprises for the day and would surely pass out from a heart attack at this point. This room was about the largest on the entire floor and lined on every wall floor to ceiling book cases. Instead of books though, every single case was packed with CDs. Vince guessed there was at least a thousand CDs in the entire room. He even noticed an old record player by the window sill and a cupboard that held at least a couple hundred records. Anne led Vince to the center of the room where two large, leather arm-chairs faced each other. As they took their seats Anne beamed at him. She could tell Vince was impressed. He thought he had a large music collection. He could tell she owned everything. He even noticed some metal and rock bands he loved. “I knew you’d love it,” she said breaking his gaze. “Half of them belonged to Mitch. You remind me so much of him.” Vince watched her as she opened a large photo album and began telling him about Mitchel Carlisle.

“Mitch and I always knew each other as kids. But the first time we really talked was at my sister’s wedding when we were fifteen. After that one night, we were inseparable. I found my best friend, besides my sister. The best part of it though, was that he was just like me. He was un-ordinary.” Vince looked at the sparkle in her eye. He finally caught on that un-ordinary was Anne’s favorite word. “When the whole town loved the word and concept of ordinary, Mitchel and I would walk the forest for hours talking about how we hated the usual. We wanted to get out and explore the world. He was just like my sister. No one else in the entire town knew of our strange likes and tastes; the other world movies, the art we drew together, our fascination with toys and candy like five year olds, or all of the music we would discover and fall in love with.” To the town, we were like my sister and her husband; an ordinary love story. But we hated the word ordinary. Like my parents and my sister and brother-in-law, we were soul mates. Our love was special. We got married in town at twenty just like my sister and brother-in-law, David, while attending the same college they did. I’m proud to say we traveled to many exotic places for nearly twenty years, just like we had planned. We worked for several different magazines, capturing photos and writing columns, just like Sara and David; our heroes.” Vince suddenly had to interject into her story, “Then why are you still living here? Did you guys have kids? Where’s Mitchell?” Vince had so many questions because he was so intrigued by Anne’s amazing story. She was different. She was un-ordinary. He wanted to meet Mitch. Anne just gave him a small, sad smile, “Mitch passed away two years ago honey.” Vince looked down as he mumbled a small apology. “Don’t be sorry,” she said cutting him off. “Mitch lived an incredible life, even though he still left too soon. Unfortunately we never had any children. It crushed us, but we just supposed it wasn’t mean to be. Instead we traveled and worked, enjoying every new place we explored and discovered. Thirty eight amazing years with my best friend, doing what we loved.” “But why are you still here? Why didn’t you guys live in one of the amazing places you would visit?” Vince couldn’t see why the two wouldn’t leave and never look back at Bakersville. All Anne could do was chuckle at him once more, “That would’ve been the ordinary thing for us to do, right?” She had puzzled Vince once more. “The town just assumed we would be like Sara and David. That we would move out of Bakersville for good and travel the world and eventually settle down in some big, busy city. They wrote it off as the ordinary for our family. Well Mitch and I realized that we would have been no better then the rest of Bakersville. We had fallen into the “ordinary” category. We weren’t about to let that happen. When we weren’t working and traveling, we came straight back to Bakersville and eventually built this house, away from the rest of the town. This became our own little world. Now this act, was un-ordinary to the town. And we loved the thrill of being different.” Vince studied every soft wrinkle of Anne’s face. He felt like he was staring at a map, marked by many adventures, filled with endless stories. He was in awe. Vince McPherson had only known Anne Baker for a few hours now, and he already saw her as his hero. “When Mitch died of a brain aneurysm, I was ready to go too. Just like my parents, I thought I couldn’t survive without him. But I remembered every conversation the two of us ever had since we were fifteen. We talked about everything, but we never talked about death. That was one subject neither one of us could ever stomach. Even when both of our parents died, we didn’t discuss it. We let nature and God do what they thought was right. The first and only time we talked about death, was a week before he passed. It was like he knew his time was coming. I told him I wouldn’t survive without him. It was the only time I ever saw him get angry with me. He held me in his arms and told me he wouldn’t have it. He called me everything I had dreamed of hearing someday when I was fifteen. He called me strong, brave, beautiful, creative, and un-ordinary. He reminded me of our world. This home that we built with our own hands. This home we filled with strange and unusual and just plain fascinating objects, because we loved them. He asked me if I was ready to leave this world. I told him it wasn’t the same world if he wasn’t there with me. He only kissed me softly and said he would always be there; that he would be my angel. I scolded him for being so sappy like a regular, old romantic comedy. He made me promise to keep our world alive; to keep un-ordinary alive in Bakersville. For one day after he passed I didn’t think I would make it without him, but I never broke a promise to Mitch. I wasn’t about to start then. It’s not easy Vince, but I can find comfort in knowing that the whole town thinks he was an ordinary man. That’s because I know just how strange he was, and that he is looking down at Bakersville, laughing at all of them right now.” She had tears gathering up in the corners of her eyes by now but she was still smiling. Vince wiped his own tears out of his eyes. This was definitely not what he expected to happen when he moved to Bakersville. Anne studied him once more, “You don’t know how amazing it has been to share all of this with you Vince. The only other people who have ever seen our house is Sara and David and my nieces. They are just as un-ordinary as well; they understand.” “Why have you shared all of this with me then? Why did you let me in to your house? Was it because you saw my clothes and automatically decided I was strange and different?” Vince suddenly became slightly angry, thinking that Anne had made quick judgment about him based on his looks, just like everybody else. “No Vince, it wasn’t your clothes. It was you. It was your soul.” Anne had lost Vince once more. He didn’t know what she meant now. She continued, “Just like that first day I met Mitch and knew he was special, I saw you and knew you were special. Not because of what I saw on the outside, but what I felt and saw on the inside. You are just like Mitch, Vince. And like me. I knew you hated the normal. You hate the word ordinary. Am I right?” “Yes,” Vince couldn’t deny it, but he was still puzzled. He was actually sitting across from someone who understood him and was even like him. And this person was a sixty year old woman. “I can’t believe where I live sometimes Vince. The people of Bakersville fascinate me. They want their little world to be perfect at all times. They worship the word “ordinary” so much that it’s frightening sometimes. If you think about it though Vince, maybe they aren’t that different from you and I. We want our own perfect world filled with the things and people we love, just like they do. To them though, the things we like are un-ordinary. But to us, we look at them and think that the things they like are un-ordinary, because we aren’t not use to or fond of them. Do you see Vince? We can smile because while they think they are perfectly normal and ordinary, we look at them as strange and in our own little worlds, un-ordinary.” Anne broke out into a wide smile as she expectedly looked at Vince. Her words slowly sunk into his brain and he finally understood what she was saying. He looked straight into her eyes and started to laugh uncontrollably. “There really is no such thing as “ordinary” is there Anne. No two people in the entire world are exactly alike. How can you tell what ordinary is?” Anne beamed at him, “I knew you’d get it. I knew you’d understand as soon as I saw you. Never let Bakersville change you Vince, or any where or anyone for that matter. I think people could surprise you though. Maybe even that Zoe down at the grocery store.” Anne shot him a cheeky smile as he looked away and blushed. Vince looked back at her, “You know, I got a feeling about her too. She gave me a genuine smile. She reminds me of you.” “Thats a good thing Vince.” They smiled at each other once more. Vince gave Anne a long hug before he left. As he walked home he wondered if it was really possible to feel like one day, one conversation, could change your whole life. After a day like this, he believed it really could. He told his mom enough information to calm her nerves about being home late and forgetting the groceries, but to still keep what he and Anne had shared that day as sacred. He hugged her and told her already liked it there as he went to take out the trash. His mother just watched him in quiet amazement. Vince nearly spilled the garbage all over the sidewalk when he realized Zoe was his next door neighbor. The two ended up talking for hours on her front porch; Vince being mesmerized constantly by her gorgeous smile and love of music as great as his. Vince knew someday that Anne would let Zoe see into her world as well. Vince already knew Zoe would understand them. Besides, every one in Bakersville was un-ordinary to Vince and Anne.

And so from that day on, Vince McPherson would walk to Anne Baker’s home every Saturday afternoon and talk about anything and everything out of the usual. And this was their ordinary routine.